Whimsical Corruption : An Adventure in Wynn
by ChrisCactus
Summary: A cast of characters make their way through the world of Wynn, and in their innocent hopes for fun quests, they end up unravelling darker mysteries...


~Authors nooote!~ This is a creative adaptation of the world of Wynn, the world and a few of the characters are from the game WynnCraft ^^

 **Chapter 1 : Ignitio**

 _"Fall brings chilling breezes, cold and refreshing. They wander in and out of trees, through leaves a reddened by time, and into the deepest caves. Forward and backwards on the skin of wary travellers, and up to move the clouds, morphing them to impossible shapes. "_

A small boy sat on a hill looking up into the ever changing fluffy clouds against the azure blue sky. Young, daring, full of energy and potential, but even with all that he decided to stay simple, to just sit and watch the images move by. He had done this many times before, even in rain, and this time was like every time before, ever lasting, calm, and like most times a clopping sound was heard echoing from the small valley below the hill. Many traders would take it back back and forth, as it was the only secure way to the province of Wynn - at least, by land. Unlike usual however, a loud neigh was heard, and the sounds of yelling and wood snapping.

The boy was startled, and ran down the hill to peer down into the winding valley. Peaking around a tree, looking onto the scene, he saw a small group of people, as well as a horse running away from a turned over carriage. There was quite the panic down there. A dust covered man, still holding onto the reigns of his horse, yelled in the horses direction a few curse words. A young lady and man pulled themselves from the carriage upwards out of the now horizontal door. They all began to bicker, and the young lady looked like she was examining the wheels of the carriage. A large gust of chilled wind made its way into the valley and almost knocked all of them over with its force, as they stood around the wreckage of the carriage.

"For God's sakes," the older man exclaimed in utter dismay "no no no...!"

He went for his satchel, and pulled out a small piece of parchment, a map it seemed. He unfolded it and adjusted his position for light, examined it for a few moments then looked back at the other two.

"Looks like the rest will have ta' be on foot." He declared.

His voice was gruff, and deep. It sounded like he was from the Southern snow lands, but his body was that of a tall and lanky person, very unlike the strong and stout people from the South. He walked like he was unsure of himself, but even behind his weak look his mind was adamant and steady.

The young woman stood up and answered the comment with a condescending tone.

"Really Daran? You say that like you thought one of us figured we could lift this old bulky caravan ourselves!"

"Hah! And maybe we could substitute you for the horse!" said the younger man from across the way, tauntingly. He was scouting down the stone and vine lined valley until it twisted to a point where he could see no more.

"Watch your tongue, both of ye," Replied Daran "the map says that we aren't that far from Ragni, and we should be able ta' make it there by nightfall."

The younger woman ignored the comment made by the younger man, and responded to Daran. "As long as whatever tripped up our wheels doesn't get to us first," she pointed at the wheels of the toppled caravan. "looks like some kind of strong line of iron spikes -because of the size and weight of this old wheel barrow- was pushed right into the wheels when we ran over them, splintering them apart."

"Oversized wheelbarrow? You just won' be quiet 'bout the age of my carriage! At least I 'ave one." He replied, obviously offended.

Daran grew up in a small village, and ever since the age of ten his father and mother had tried to push him towards a future in transportation, which was the Wheel family legacy. He followed gladly, but instead of achieving his dream which was to be the number one driver for the royalty of Wynn, he ended up as a lowly transporter with just his old dirty carriage and a cheap horse or two taking any random person off the streets wherever they needed to go. It was decent pay but boring, dangerous and time consuming It was not what he had imagined for his life.

The younger man named Ericden spoke up, defeat in his voice "Well I hate to be the one to bring it up but now none of us have a vehicle," He looked to the younger woman "if you're done with your wheel inspecting Tara I think we should get going. Like you said Daran, we can get there by Night, and I really don't want to be out when the people that laid that trap return."

Tara nodded, dusting herself off and wearily gazing down the road. Idly, she ignored Ericdens comment. "I wonder if it has anything to do with the corruption, " She glanced back at Daran, "or do you think it's just a random crime?"

"In honesty, I dunno. The corruption shows itself as death, greed, wrath, and the like. You'll know it when ya see it, but like I said earlier, I hope ya dont 'ave to. " Daran shrugged, stretching his long arms, and nodded to Ericden as he began to walk in line with the other two .

"The corruption, yes. The great and scary epicenter of evil, dark magic," Ericden scoffed, shaking dirt from his pale blond hair "what's the worst that could happen?"

The three began their walk. The calm, lanky Daran with an odd history, the short, charismatic Ericden with his bow and quiver, and the intelligent Tara, thinking about many things at once. They had no knowledge of what would follow. Exactly what they didn't know, what they would see, what they would do, would be something bigger than they could ever imagine.

All around them Fall winds kicked up leaves, brought them into a swirling whirlwind above their heads, and up into the sky. The small child watched them until they had disappeared behind the winding walls of the valley, then went back up his small hill. The leaves were falling even more heavily now, and he made a small pillow of them to rest his head on as he went back to gazing at the clouds, letting the cold breezes bring him to slumber.


End file.
